


Wang Leehom Likes Peaches

by JuxtaposeFantasy



Category: Chinese Actor RPF
Genre: M/M, PWP, Yibo's got a big ass fite me if you disagree, crack-lite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28892559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuxtaposeFantasy/pseuds/JuxtaposeFantasy
Summary: Wang Leehom's collaboration with Wang Yibo exposed him to a truth: Yibo has a big, phat ass.Slightly cracky, definitely pointless.
Relationships: Wang Yi Bo/Wang Leehom
Comments: 22
Kudos: 50





	Wang Leehom Likes Peaches

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't great and it's a bit dumb, but it's just something to break a little funk. It's based on a video clip of Yibo's insanely tight pants during his collab with Leehom during NYE, and in defiance of those misguided twitter peeps who are unable to appreciate the roundness.

Wang Leehom has been in the industry a long time. He’s a veteran in all the ways that matter. But he can say with certainty that he’s never worked alongside a man with a butt as perky as Wang Yibo’s.

It’s a strange claim and certainly one he’s never shared with anyone, but it’s an interesting thought and it makes him reflect on his long career. Surely there’s been _someone_ with an ass so round? 

But the longer he thinks about it, the more he accepts that no, this is a juicy butt of a magnitude he’s not encountered before. He thinks it’s due to Yibo being so thin, thus making his butt all the more prominent. It’s also definitely a result of Yibo being a dancer. And thirdly, Leehom can blame Yibo’s pants because honestly, has any man worn pants so form-fitting? Probably, but Leehom doubts they’ve been worn this well.

Their collaboration on stage is a hit. Leehom never had any doubts about that. They’re both skilled performers and it helps that they both have an absolute blast singing together. This is the kind of collab Leehom cherishes, where the love for performing raises both artists. Tonight, he and Yibo’s stage is stratospheric.

It leaves Leehom elated. He can’t keep his hands to himself, needs to clutch Yibo close by the shoulders and continually petting him and stroking his back. When he hears the cheering for Yibo, he plays into it, hyping up Yibo’s fans with an enthusiasm that is powered by Yibo’s shyness. If Yibo won’t feed himself, Leehom is happy to place the spoon in his mouth.

Though a spoon isn’t really what’s on his mind as the two of them return to their dressing rooms.

They’re side by side, which is convenient, because Leehom doesn’t have to do much sneaking about, simply roll from his door to Yibo’s and quickly let himself inside. No one would have dared stop him, but he fortunately doesn’t catch the attention of anyone, which is safer all around.

Yibo is startled when he sees it’s Leehom in his room but quickly smiles in surprise. _What a handsome kid,_ Leehom thinks right before he pulls Yibo to him by the lapels of his jacket.

Yibo’s sexuality is a giant question mark in the industry. There are rumors either way. Leehom has read them, hasn’t put much thought into them. A wiser man would have thought twice about dragging Yibo into a kiss, but Leehom has the benefit of having sang with him on stage. He’s _felt_ Yibo’s energy in a way few ever will.

Leehom knows the score.

He’s proved right with the first moan into his mouth. Yibo needs a moment to catch up to speed but he’s there once Leehom’s tongue is in his mouth. Yibo leans into him and Leehom obligingly backs up to the nearest wall to support them both. With his shoulders braced there, he can finally do what he’s wanted ever since he saw Yibo’s outfit. He grabs the peach.

“Damn,” Leehom breathes as his hands engulf the young singer’s bubble butt. “Damn,” he repeats.

He squeezes and kneads. He makes sourdough and then wheat. Yibo begins to rock against him as Leehom’s hands put a bakery to shame.

“I was going to ask you to blow me,” Leehom gasps against Yibo’s very red, very wet lips.

Yibo groans. “Leehom-ge…” Words seem beyond him. His kiss is growing aggressive.

“But I want something else.” Leehom has to pry Yibo off him because the skinny thing has somehow wrapped around him like an octopus. “Yibo,” he says, waiting until glazed brown eyes focus on him, “I gotta eat this ass.”

“Fuck,” Yibo whispers. He licks his lips. “Okay.”

Leehom is not a dancer, but he can move fast when he needs to. In seconds he has Yibo bent over the makeup desk and peeled his pants down his long legs. Yibo’s not wearing underwear. Of course he isn’t. How could he have avoided lines in those tight pants?

“Okay,” Leehom echoes. He takes a second to praise some gods and then splits the peach with his palms and dives in.

A lesser man would be smothered to death by the experience. Yibo’s ass cheeks are plump and ripe. They squeeze tight around Leehom’s face as he’s licking into him. He hears things hitting the floor, assumes they’re things that were once on the makeup table and were batted off by Yibo’s flailing. Because Yibo is flailing, back arched, cheeks clenching. He really, really enjoys being eaten out.

Who else has partaken of the peach? A second of jealousy punches Leehom in the gut. He takes it out on Yibo by stabbing his tongue into him. Yibo’s resulting wail is penance enough, but Leehom does it again, just to make sure the kid learns his lesson.

Leehom licks and he licks and adds his fingers every so often. He needs to get deeper, to open Yibo wider, because when he pumps into Yibo, Yibo pushes back. Yibo needs to be cored, and by the greedy state of his ass, it needs to be done by someone who knows what they’re doing. 

_Next time_ , Leehom promises himself. _And the time after that._

For now, Leehom pulls back against the sweet resistance of Yibo’s cheeks clinging hotly to his face and bites at those rosy pillows until they’re even redder. Yibo gasps and writhes, hinting that he’s no limp noodle in bed. Leehom wants to picture them there, but there’s no time. Yibo’s wet, winking hole is demanding. Leehom dives for it again, willingly smothering himself and loving every second of it.

It doesn’t take long to make Yibo cum. _How gratifying,_ Leehom thinks. _I hope he’s not just being polite to his elders._ But Yibo has broken at least two things that were once on his table and sounds like a cat in heat as he shivers through his orgasm. It's probably real. Leehom laps at his hole and nibbles on it a little bit. He keeps doing it when it makes Yibo shiver delightfully.

“Ge,” Yibo pants, his voice hoarse. Leehom hadn’t heard him screaming, but then again he’s been deafened by two puffy cheeks squeezed around his ears. “I can’t take anymore.”

Leehom sighs regretfully but he understands. He wrenches his head out from between Yibo’s ass to check out his handiwork. In the mirror’s reflection, Yibo looks like a man who’s survived a bear attack. He’s sweaty and wrung out and beautiful.

Grinning, Leehom eases out his own swollen cock and strokes it while staring at Yibo’s ass. _So round. So squishy. Someday I need that thing bouncing on my face._

That’s all it takes for Leehom to find release. Though his knees nearly buckle, he manages to paint the object of his desire in his spunk.

“I needed to change pants anyway,” Yibo murmurs as he looks over his shoulder at his shiny butt. “Got another stage later.”

“What are you wearing for it?” Leehom asks eagerly.

Yibo points out a strange outfit that Leehom doesn’t completely understand—he’s wearing a blue rug?—but he is able to pick out the pants and is disappointed that they appear to be loose-fitting.

“We should collab again,” he tells Yibo. 

Yibo nods, grinning widely. “Yes, Leehom-ge. I want to.”

 _I’ll bring the pants,_ Leehom thinks, but doesn’t say it aloud. He’ll let that be a surprise.


End file.
